


sleepless

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [55]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine what transpired the night that Jamie, Claire, et al arrived at the manor house in 02x12 “The Hail Mary”…hat tip to suhailauniverse for pointing out just how comfy the blanket nest looked in Jamie and Claire’s room…</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/146949066855/sleepless) on tumblr

Jamie watched the flames dance in the fireplace, slowly consuming each fiber of the three logs he’d neatly stacked together to illuminate another long, sleepless night.

After months of marching with exhausted men in the mist and mud and rain, to have such privacy - in a manor house, no less - was a true luxury. And he and Claire had both realized it - exchanging glances in their wordless language when Dougal had waved them off to find a room in which to settle down for the night.

He’d grasped her hand as he followed Dougal to discuss the plans for the next day, silently caressing the inside of her wrist before releasing her. She’d nodded and shared a small smile, padding off down the hall.

It was torture to listen to Dougal prattle on about supplies and surprise attacks and where the French Gold may be. For all he could think of was finding Claire, locking them inside whatever room she’d found, and not thinking of anything but her until the next morning.

And when he had finally extracted himself from Dougal - and spoken a few quick words to Murtagh to ensure that he and Claire would not be disturbed - he’d turned on his heel and quickly stepped down the hallway.

Briefly he’d panicked - not sure how to find Claire - but then saw her arisaid draped over the doorknob of the last room in the hallway. Gently he gathered the fabric into his arms, opened the door, and locked it behind him.

His eyes met Claire’s - clad only in her shift, her knees against her chest, sitting atop a nest of cloaks and blankets. Waiting for him.

And so he’d taken his time - undressing, adding his plaid and her arisaid to the nest, stacking the firewood to stoke the flames without - and then taking her to bed, stoking the flames within.

Now he gently traced one hand along the curve of her body, nestled so closely against him. Thinking. Reflecting. Not knowing when - or whether - they’d have a deep, quiet, private moment like this again.

For two days from now the Scots and English were destined to meet on Culloden Moor, if Claire’s history books were to be believed. And two days from now, if his last-ditch effort failed, he would be dead.

Absolute terror coursed through him. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t convince the damn fool prince and his pompous generals that the cause was already lost. They were too flush with pride and arrogance. They had nothing to lose.

James Alexander Malcom MacKenzie Fraser had everything to lose.

Clan. Home. Family. Life.

Wife.

It was April the fourteenth. His birthday was in two weeks. Last year they had had a quiet supper at Lallybroch for his birthday. Claire had given him a new coat - the coat draped over the back of the chair near the door.

This year, he would be dead.

And Claire?

April the fourteenth. Forty-four days since she had last bled on March the first - when she’d been overcome with stomach pains so severe that he had pleaded with her to not get on her horse, and stay back with the wagons. She’d had none of it, of course - merely had asked for him to give her a hand up in the saddle, and then she’d ridden beside him all day, with no complaint.

Such a vivid day in his memory. Why had it taken him so long to realize that her cycle hadn’t come on the twenty-ninth of March, as it should? Was he not paying enough attention to her?

 _A Dhia_. She was late.

It was too late for everything.

And if he were dead in two days - there was no life for her here. She’d be imprisoned. Hanged. Maybe burned, like that witch had been.

No. Not Claire. Never Claire - his Sassenach. His wife. His heart. His home.

He had to save her, then, if he couldn’t save himself.

He had to send her back. Inverness wasn’t too far from those blasted stones - perhaps he could spirit her away?

Memory flashed - the circle of stones, silent guardians of unimaginable secrets. Her beautiful face, eyes swimming with tears, hair wild as he said his goodbyes, convincing her - or him? - that she would be better off with Frank Randall.

And then feeling his heart crumble and die within his chest as he stepped down the hill and made camp - not even setting out a second pillow, for why would she choose to stay with him?

Mary, Mother, and Bride - if he took her back, would she make the same choice?

Jamie clutched her so tight that she woke, her eyelashes caressing his neck.

“Can’t sleep again?” She stretched, warming her naked skin by the fire. He hooked one leg around her hips, drawing her even closer.

“Too many things on my mind, Sassenach.”

*We’re parents again. Ye dinna ken it yet. I must let ye go, to keep ye both safe. And it willna matter if the English kill me on Culloden Moor - for I’ll already be dead.*

“Mmm.” She slid her hips to be parallel with his, and slowly - purposefully - ground against him.

He gently tilted her face to meet his. Christ, she was so beautiful. Glowing in the firelight.

“I love you,” he rasped.

Surprised, she smiled so widely that it split his heart in two.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Today, right now, more than ever before.”

Then she pulled him down for a kiss - and he squeezed his eyes shut as his heart shattered.


End file.
